


Strange But True

by wowbright



Series: Glee Season 6 Episode Reactions [13]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Compersion, Consent Issues, Episode: s06e07 Transitioning, Episode: s06e08 A Wedding, Episode: s06e09 Child Star, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, This is mostly fluffy fluff, although there is also clear consent, and, so hey, with a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:23:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mockanddee wanted a fic set before the Klaine reunion in Glee 6.08 "A Wedding" where Kurt has an ill-advised affair with Mason. She wrote a <a href="http://mockanddee.tumblr.com/post/112512145161/so-like-has-anyone-written-the-fic-where-kurt-and">wonderfully detailed prompt post,</a> and I ran with the first five sentences of it (or, rather, they ran with me). Kurt Hummel/Mason McCarthy, endgame Kurt/Blaine and Mason/Jane. This fic is pretty dang Klainey, all things considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange But True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mockanddee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockanddee/gifts).



> Thanks to likearumchocolatesouffle for being such an awesome beta, and to gnomerino and mockanddee for answering [this post](http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/112744849675/people-please-help-me-figure-out-wth-mason-is)!
> 
> I'm going to give this a "dubcon"/"consent issues" label because it involves sex between a teacher and a student, and also there's a scene where Kurt makes sexual decisions while drunk. There's a smidgen of guilty feelings over the teacher/student thing, and a good dose of Kurt/Blaine longing. There is no explicit mention of condoms because this is not a blow-by-blow (ha!), but rest assured they are being worn. And Kurt does his best to follow the [campsite rule](http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/savage-love-web-extra/Content?oid=572102).
> 
> This is also on [tumblr](http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/112760583825/fic-strange-but-true-kurt-mason).

Kurt stands alone in the dark for a few minutes after Blaine speeds off, trying to regain his bearings.

When he realizes it’s futile, he goes back inside Rachel’s party and asks Sam to “put a little extra in that something extra.”

Kurt is determined to be cheerful. He dances with everyone and flirts more than he should considering most of the people there are technically his students. Though maybe it doesn’t matter. Back when he was their age, he flirted with Blaine for four straight months before Blaine ever noticed. And how long did it take Finn before that? A year?

So if Kurt sways his hips side-to-side and fondles his straw a little too much while chatting with Mason about Freddie Mercury’s greatest musical moments (a conversation that could go on for days if they let it) – well, Mason’s not going to notice. He’ll just think Kurt is being _nice_ or _charming_ or _very_ _enthusiastic in his opinions._ And the latter two wouldn’t be so far off. Mason doesn’t have to know about the images bubbling in Kurt’s head. He doesn’t have to know that what Kurt would like to do with Mason’s tall, lanky body and his polite, eager face is anything but _nice._

Kurt will indulge himself. If he wants to see if Mason’s hair feels like Blaine’s on a low-gel day? Well, then, Kurt will reach right over and pick out the stray feathers caught in it.

“What got you into performing?” Mason says, swinging a little on his bar stool as he speaks. “I’m always so curious about that with people whose parents aren’t performers themselves. Unless yours are?” Mason’s eyes are wide and attentive, as if he’s expecting Kurt to spout forth the most fascinating utterance ever spoken by man. He’s so much like Blaine that way – he genuinely wants to hear the stories people have to tell.

“No, definitely not.” Kurt rolls his eyes playfully. “I didn’t really start performing until I got into the glee club. Well, unless you count the elaborate pageants I’d throw in the basement with the help of my Power Rangers figurines. You?”

“I just thought that’s what people did,” Mason said. “Madison and I have been choreographing duets since we were three. In middle school I got a little rebellious about the whole thing, but then when I started cheering – that’s when I realized that I loved performing for its own sake, not just because it was something I grew up with.”

“Yeah?” Kurt says. “What’s your favorite part about it?”

Mason tilts his head in thought. “I love the connection with the spectators. I can be having a really bad day, but when it’s time to cheer, it doesn’t matter. I need to make it a good day, for myself and for them. And they give me so much back in return, you know? I might start with just a little bit of happiness, but every time it goes back and forth, it just keeps growing.”

Kurt’s heart does a little backflip and he feels suddenly disoriented, though he hasn’t had much to drink at all yet. It’s more like … deja vu. But it’s not Mason who Kurt feels like he’s had this conversation with before. It’s Blaine.

Oh god. It’s not just Mason’s hair or disarming niceness that are like Blaine’s. It’s … everything. Mason is exuberant and eager-to-please and much more postmodern about the whole gender thing than Spencer in his pink cowboy hat and tutu. Mason doesn’t have to wear a tutu to transgress. All he has to do is be himself, slinking around in shiny tight pants and silver sparkles and dancing like his sister.

Kurt’s heart slides down from his chest to his groin. And maybe he’s had more to drink than he thought, because the next sentence to come out of his mouth is a coy “I used to be a Cheerio, you know.” Kurt sucks seductively on his straw while he waits for Mason’s reaction.

It doesn’t take long. Mason claps his hands against his knees so excitedly he almost shakes himself off the chair. “ _Of course_ I know! The Celine Dion tribute in French – I’ve watched it on YouTube, like, a thousand times! Madison and I prepared for our Cheerios auditions by learning that routine by heart. Thank goodness we didn’t have to compete with you at tryouts.”

Kurt suppresses a smile. “I guess it was good. I feel like I’ve done better, though.”

“Well sure you have. Everyone gets better with age.” Mason looks straight into Kurt’s eyes when he says that and _winks_ , his mouth spreading into a tilted smile. Not a true flirtation, of course, but still – Kurt’s ears flush red with the sudden awareness of how close he’s standing to Mason, not even two feet between them.

Kurt steps half a pace back, the small of his back bumping into the bar.

“Careful!” Sam’s voice comes from behind him. “You almost knocked over the banana tree!”

Kurt turns. “Sorry, Sam.”

“That’s okay. It’s just that, if the banana tree goes down, it would knock over the maraschino cherries, and then the bottles would go, and the mess would be like – like when they slaughter all the Tuskens in _Attack of the Clones_. And I know you wouldn’t want to get that on your clothes.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Sam.” Kurt hands his near-empty cup across the bar to Sam. “I could use another smoothie with extra.”

Sam smiles. “One more Hummel Heartbreaker coming right up!”

Kurt turns to say something to Mason, but the boy is no longer in his seat. He’s been pulled to the dance floor by his sister. They’re bopping around to “[We’re From America](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVyqVldvj40)” with steps that are a cross between _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ and _Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo_. It’s both bizarre and absolutely adorable.

* * *

Kurt does not have a hopeless rebound crush on someone entirely inappropriate, and he’s not going to act like he does, either. He drinks and dances, cuddles with Mercedes and Rachel on the loveseat, gushes over Jane’s outfit, does an impromptu hip hop version of “[Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-bgYxMO5cY)” with Kitty, almost lets slip that he hopes one day to have sex accompanied by the dulcet crooning of Roderick and Mercedes, and plays tug-of-war with Spencer over a pair of fairy wings newly dug up out of the costume box.

He does not watch Mason chatting with Jane and try to figure out if the smile plastered on Mason’s face is bigger or more genuine than the one he flashes at Kurt whenever they make eye contact across the room. (Kurt really is trying to avoid eye contact, but Mason keeps looking over and Kurt’s had a lot to drink by this point. His reflexes are slow.)

By the time the party is over, Kurt’s so deep in his cups there’s no way he can drive home. Somehow he ends up in the back of the McCarthy minivan with Artie, Kitty, and Roderick.

“Oh god, if anyone finds out I got drunk around you guys, I’m so fired,” Kurt moans, although he’s drunk enough that he doesn’t actually care all that much. Maybe if he got fired, he could return to New York and forget all about Blaine and his big, sad eyes and mysterious kisses and –

Kitty pats Kurt on the knee. “You can’t get fired. No one pays you.”

Madison turns around to look at them from the front passenger seat. “I’m not doing anything that will hurt the glee club. I’ve had more fun with you guys in the past few weeks than I’ve had in my entire life.” She reaches for Mason, who’s in the driver’s seat, and squeezes his arm. “You won’t say anything either, will you, Buttercup?”

“There’s nothing to say.” Mason turns to his sister and smiles his disarming lopsided smile. “He’s over 21, it wasn’t a school-sponsored activity, and all of us under-21s are sober as judges.”

Everyone turns to stare at Roderick. “I won’t squeal,” he says. “Do you guys really think I’m that much of a dick?”

Mason starts the van and they’re off. It’s a long ride. No one lives near anyone else, and Kurt lives the farthest from them all.

That’s okay, though. Kurt’s inebriated, but not enough to feel sick to his stomach. Mostly, he feels more daring and less weighed down by his problems than he usually is.

“I really liked that song you did with Blaine,” says Madison. “It’s cool how you two can have so much camaraderie even though you direct rival show choirs.”

“Oh, they’ve got more than camaraderie,” Artie interjects, waggling his eyebrows just in case everyone misses the innuendo in his voice.

Kurt elbows him in the ribs.

“Just don’t let him use those heart eyes to trick you into giving him the setlist,” says Kitty.

Kurt glares at her. “I would never do that. The New Directions comes before anything else.”

Kitty does that thing she does when someone is full of shit: she tilts her chin down and rolls her eyes up, glaring invisible laserbeams of wrath at her victim. “Except from what I heard, the New Directions aren’t why you came back to town.” She smiles and folds her hands primly in her lap. Kurt half-expects her to start licking her paws like the cat who got the canary.

“You know I love gossip as much as the next person, but some gossip just isn’t worth listening to.” Kurt stares forward. He catches Mason glancing back at him in the rearview mirror. Kurt looks away to the road ahead. “Besides, this topic is entirely inappropriate for a discussion between students and their coach.”

“Speak for yourself,” says Kitty. “Mr. Schuester sure didn’t think it was inappropriate to drag us into his love life. And he won teacher of the year _twice_.”

The mention of Mr. Schuester piques the interest of the other current New Directions. They pummel Kitty, Kurt and Artie with questions: Is it true that Mr. Schuester made proposing to his wife a graded assignment? What about the rumor that he dated Rachel? Did he really lurk around the boys’ locker room and peak in the showers when he thought no one would notice? And why was he so obsessed with Journey? Should they be watching out for a Journey medley from Vocal Adrenaline at sectionals?

Roderick is the first to get dropped off, then Artie. Kurt half-expects Kitty to go with him, but she’s back in the van once they help Artie out.

Kitty’s house is next. To Kurt’s surprise, Madison gets out with her, grabbing an overnight bag from the way back.

“Those two are friends?” Kurt says, his mouth hanging open in astonishment as he watches the girls make their way to the front door.

Mason looks back guiltily. “They weren’t. But Madison and I had a fight last week and I said some things that were kind of mean, so ...”

“What did you say?”

“I said that maybe if we had more friends than just each other, people would stop thinking we were incestuous.”

Kurt’s head turns so fast toward Mason, it almost gives him whiplash. “Wait. People actually think that? I thought that was just Kitty being mean.”

Mason shrugs. “Kitty is the megaphone for what everyone’s really thinking but too afraid to say.”

Kurt suddenly feels queasy. “I’m sorry. I should have quashed that. I’ve been so caught up in my own drama that –”

“Nah. The rumors have been going on for years. And it’s kind of our fault. We shouldn’t have gone to our seventh grade dinner dance together. That’s what started it.”

Kurt takes a deep breath to calm the anger roiling in his stomach. “That doesn’t make it your fault. People are allowed to go to dances with friends. Especially at that age.”

“That’s pretty much what _we_ were thinking. I mean, she’s my best friend and my best dance partner. But no one else saw it that way.”

“People are horrible,” Kurt says.

“I don’t know. I think most people are good when it comes down to it.” Mason smiles broadly. Something in Kurt shifts. He finds himself wanting to believe that people are good, too. “They just don’t know what to do with things that aren’t familiar to them. They need to be educated.”

“That sounds –” Kurt stops himself. He was about to finish the sentence with _like something Blaine would say._ Kurt’s heart pounds in his thighs. He shouldn't be as turned on by that as he is.

“Pollyanna-ish? I can’t help it with the way I was raised. Up With People, remember?” Mason pats the empty passenger seat beside him and winks. “Move up. I’m not your chauffeur.”

Kurt gets out of the van to make his way to the passenger seat instead of crawling over the console like a normal person. Getting that close to Mason would be ill-advised, considering everything Kurt wants to do to him right now.

Mason pulls the minivan back onto the road. Neither of them says anything for a few minutes. Kurt stares at Mason as he drives, honing in on the details that separate Mason from Blaine: green eyes, knobby wrists, long slender eyebrows.

But sometimes Kurt forgets his mission, and everything gets blurry. Mason’s nose is like Blaine’s, and the way he carries himself, and the way his default expression is a smile. Sitting next to Mason, Kurt feels safe in a way he hasn’t since being locked in the fake elevator.

At a red light, Mason breaks the silence with a song lyric: “[ _I always feel like somebody’s watching me._](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YvAYIJSSZY) _”_ He glances over at Kurt at gives him one of those damned winks.

Kurt clears his throat and looks away. The air conditioning vents on the dashboard are suddenly quite fascinating. “Sorry. I’m a little drunk.”

“No need to apologize.” The light turns green and Mason hits the accelerator. “It’s flattering.”

Kurt stops breathing. “I didn’t – I wasn’t trying to –”

Mason takes his right hand off the steering wheel and puts it on Kurt’s knee. “I wouldn’t mind if you _did_ try. You’re pretty attractive, you know. I’d be staring at you if I wasn’t driving.”

Kurt’s heartbeat moves from his thighs into his dick. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m your coach.”

Mason lets out a light, uncynical laugh. “And I’m your student, but that didn’t keep you from flirting with me at the party.” Mason drags his index finger up along the inside of Kurt’s thigh, stops midway between Kurt’s knee and crotch.

Kurt stares at the hand. He should pick it up and put it back on the steering wheel. Yes, that’s what he’ll do.

But somehow all Kurt manages is to put his hand on the back of Mason’s and nudge it closer to his crotch.

It’s going to be a long drive home.

Silence again for a few minutes. Kurt stares out the window, but doesn’t process the scenery. His brain is too occupied with freaking out to be of much use in the visual acuity department. At some point Mason’s hand disappears from his thigh. Kurt tries not to be sad about that.

He only becomes aware of the road beneath them when the engine slows to a soft purr and the sound of gravel comes from beneath the tires. Kurt blinks and shakes his head. It’s darker outside than it was before. There are no houses or brightly lit gas stations nearby. All Kurt can see are the outlines of trees and, above the canopies, a softly glowing sliver of moon.

“Is this where you live?” Kurt says.

“No.” Mason smiles. “We’re down by the Ottawa River. This is one of my favorite spots in Lima. You can see more during the day but – well, it’s nice at night, too. A good place to be alone. No one seems to know about it.”

“What are you planning to do with me?”

Mason tilts his head. “I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”

 _Drive me home_. That’s what Kurt should say. _Drive me home._

But his mouth won’t form the words.

“I’ve had the hots for you since Madison found those videos on YouTube. You’re pretty much the reason I discovered masturbation. Well, you and Macy Gray.”

“Um … I’m not sure I should find that as hot as I do right now.”

“And I can tell you’re hung up on that Blaine guy, but … we could still have a little fun while that whole situation figures itself out, right?”

“That sounds …” _Like the best idea I’ve heard all week,_ Kurt thinks. But instead he says, “... incredibly inappropriate.”

“Why? You’re cute, you think I’m cute, and you’re not a paid faculty member at McKinley High. It all sounds aboveboard to me. Anyway, Rachel dated Mr. Schuester and he _was_ faculty.”

“Oh my god, what is it with you people? Rachel did _not_ date Mr. Schuester.”

“Sure. Okay. Whatever you say. But I think –” Mason bites his bottom lip.

“What?”

“I think maybe we should stop talking about it.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since we left Kitty’s hou- _mmmpph._ ” Kurt’s sentence is interrupted by Mason’s lips. He’s too stunned to do anything but sit there, even though Mason’s lips are soft and eager and taste like strawberry smoothie – the same way Blaine’s lips tasted earlier tonight.

Mason pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Did I overstep my bounds? I was going for badass, but maybe I was just – bad?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It was kind of nice, actually.”

Mason ducks his head and blushes.

“But we should probably – you should probably drive me home. I’m tipsy and I’m horny and probably not the best judge of wise moves right now, especially considering you're mostly straight and you remind me of my ex-fiancé.”

"I'm not mostly straight."

"Wait. You're mostly gay?"

"I don't like labels. I just ... like who I like.  And you're very likeable." Mason puts his hand on Kurt’s thigh again.

Kurt removes it to Mason’s lap.

“Okay,” Mason says with quiet disappointment. “Well, at least I tried.” He looks up at Kurt and forces his lips into a smile and – oh. Kurt’s heart breaks for the second time tonight.

“Oh, fuck it,” Kurt groans. He’s been limp as a dead cod through two kisses tonight. Is that really the memory he wants to go home with?

Kurt launches himself toward Mason, toward the taste of strawberries and skin, toward relief from the longing for Blaine that’s an undercurrent to everything these days.

“Rrrmmrrrmmmph,” Mason groans with surprised pleasure, opening his mouth and pulling Kurt closer to him until Kurt’s halfway on his lap, blocked from being all the way there only by the presence of the steering wheel.

“Not enough space,” Kurt murmurs. “Back seat.”

The clamber over the console, a tangle of arms and legs as they reach the bench seat. Mason tugs impatiently at Kurt’s vest. “This vest confuses me,” Mason mutters.

“Confuses?” Kurt says, not sure if he understood the word right, not sure if he understands _anything_ right anymore, but strangely not really caring.

“You’re so hot in it –” Mason sucks a long kiss on Kurt’s neck. “But I’ve also been wanting to peel it off of you all night.”

“Oh.” Kurt lies back against the armrest. “I can help with that.”

The vest is the first thing to go. Then the weird, adorable silver slinky ribbons hanging around Mason's neck. Kurt’s button-down is next, and still there’s not enough skin, not enough touch, stupid t-shirts in the way.

Kurt lies back on the bench, pulls Mason over him, the weight of Mason’s warmth pressing Kurt into the upholstery, and then Mason shifts and – Oh god. Mason is so hard.

They’re _both_ so hard.

“This is so wrong,” Kurt mutters, pulling Mason closer, trying to line him up just so. “You’re so young, and –”

“I’m 18,” Mason protests. He kisses up Kurt’s jawline to his earlobe. “And considering you’re dating a guy who’s 40 years older than you, that objection’s a little ironic.”

Kurt grabs Mason’s hips and pulls him a little upward until – oh, yeah. That’s right. Kurt lets out a groan of relief. “How did you know that?”

“Kitty.”

“Of course. Kitty.”

“But apparently the 60-year-old isn’t giving you everything you need, now is he?” Mason thrusts his hips forward and Kurt has to suppress the wail of pleasure that tries to force its way out of his lungs.

The t-shirts finally come off. Mason’s chest has little brown curls of hair that trail from his nipples to below the waist of his jeans, not unlike Blaine when Blaine has gone a while between waxings. Kurt strokes it, the way he’s always wanted to with Blaine but that Blaine won’t allow because of his weird self-consciousness over body hair.

Mason closes his eyes and inhales deeply, like he’s trying to keep himself from coming. “That feels good.”

“Yes.” Kurt stops at the button above Mason’s fly, curls his finger around it as he waits for a response.

Mason nods. “Please.”

Kurt undoes both their flies at the same time. It’s impossible for things to last long after that. Mason’s a teenager and Kurt feels better than he has in ages, cocks rubbing and soft eyes on him. Kurt curls his fingers into the hair that is almost like Blaine’s and kisses the nose that’s even more like Blaine’s, and he curls his hand around their cocks and _oh_ even that part of Mason is like Blaine, too, the way it fits so perfectly in Kurt’s hand.

“Darn it,” Mason mutters under his breath. “I’m gonna come.”

“Good.” Kurt grips more tightly and Mason groans, his hips going still as his eyes open wide in something like shock. The come flows out onto Kurt’s hand and cock, making everything wet and slick and more than what it was just a moment ago – more intense, more good, more like fucking into the tight lubed ring of Blaine’s ass.

“Oh god.” Kurt bites down onto Mason’s shoulder as he comes.

* * *

“Gosh, that was hot,” Mason says after he’s zipped up his pants and pulled his t-shirt back on.

“It was.” Kurt stares at his vest as he closes the last button. He can’t bring himself to look in Mason’s eyes. “But we probably shouldn’t do it again.”

“Why? Are you and the 60-year-old supposed to be monogamous?”

Kurt shakes his head and dares a glance at Mason’s chest. “Not really.”

“Is it the whole coach-student thing?”

It’s more than that, but Kurt can’t bring himself to say _I was thinking about Blaine’s ass when I came_. So Kurt nods in agreement.

Mason shrugs one shoulder. “That’s part of what I like about it. Everyone thinks I’ve been involved in a real sex scandal with my sister for years. But now I’ve gone and done something that’s _actually_ a little scandalous.”

Kurt looks up to find Mason smiling. Of course he is. That’s what Mason always does.

“Weren’t you just trying to convince me a few minutes ago that it’s totally ethical?” Kurt says.

Mason squinches up his face as he considers. “You’re right. It’s really not scandalous at all. I mean, a year from now I’ll be in college and you’ll be a college senior so … I guess I’m still not as much of a badass as I’d like to be.” He laughs and pecks Kurt on the cheek.

The weight on Kurt’s heart lightens. “Oh, you’re more of a badass than you think,” Kurt says, and winks.

* * *

They talk freely the rest of the way to Kurt’s house: about their favorite musicians, the best songs to sing in the shower, the relative merits of spandex versus stretch vinyl and metallic taffeta versus sequins. Kurt finds himself mentioning Blaine more than he probably should. When Mason says his favorite singer from the Rat Pack is Dean Martin, Kurt says, “That’s Blaine’s, too.” When Mason tells Kurt about the time he and Madison went to separate summer camps and what a disaster it was because it was the first time they’d ever been apart for more than a couple days, Kurt hints at details of his and Blaine’s breakup the first time _they_ were apart for more than a few days.

Mason doesn’t seem to mind though. His eyes brighten with interest and he asks follow-up questions that show how attentively he’s been listening, but that aren’t too prying.

They pull up to Kurt’s house. Mason puts on the parking brake but doesn’t cut the engine. Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. They’re agreed on that, then. There’s no expectation of a long goodbye.

With the door open and one foot hanging halfway toward the ground, Kurt turns and says, “Thanks for a delightful ride.”

“My pleasure,” Mason says with a light laugh that makes Kurt’s body want a repeat from earlier in the evening.

Kurt slides out the rest of the way, setting both feet solidly on the ground. He leans his weight on the open door frame. He needs to be clear with Mason, to let him know that what happened tonight will not repeat itself. Only that’s not how his words come out. “Was this a one-time thing?” he says. Oh god, that wasn’t resolute at all.

“Only if you want it to be.”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, as wishy-washy as dishwater. He forces himself to look Mason in the eye. “You should know – I’m in love with Blaine.”

Mason doesn’t flinch. “That’s okay. I’m in love with someone else, too.”

That gets Kurt’s attention, but he doesn’t chase it. Apparently he’s okay with having sex with his students, but he draws a line at prying into their love lives – even though he’s pretty sure Kurt knows who it is. Mason has a musical chemistry with a certain girl in glee club that reminds Kurt of his own chemistry with Blaine. “Okay. See you at school.”

“Yes, coach.” Mason winks as Kurt closes the door. What an infuriating, sexy smartass.

* * *

Glee rehearsals the following week aren’t as awkward as Kurt expects them to be. He’s good at compartmentalizing, and so is Mason, who never slips into the flirtatiousness of Rachel’s party even when the lesson would make it easy to – like when Rachel insists on pairing Kurt and Mason up in one of the dance routines they’re practicing because Madison is absent for a dental appointment.

Mason only allows himself to break face in the moments before or after rehearsal, when there aren’t any other students in the room. And even then, it’s nothing direct. Just a quick wink when Kurt looks his way, and then Mason buries his head back in whatever homework he’s reading while Kurt feels his own face go red as a fire hydrant.

The next weekend, the old New Directions get together to help Rachel move her remaining possessions out of her old room. The new kids are invited, but none of them show up except for Madison and Mason, who volunteer their parents’ minivan for hauling Rachel’s stuff to her new place. “You guys are so sweet!” Rachel says, giving each of them a hug and calling each of them by the wrong name.

Later in the morning, Kurt whispers, “Hey, Madison,” with a smirk as he hands off a box to Mason.

Mason breaks into his signature crooked grin. “Oh, that was no big deal. We get that all the time. Early U.S. presidents are easy to mix up.”

That’s the closest Kurt gets to flirting with Mason that morning. Kurt’s focus is on Blaine, who has become more distant again since Rachel’s party. Every once in a while, Kurt will look up from the box he’s packing and find Blaine watching him with an enigmatic gaze. “Hi,” Kurt will say, hoping to break the ice.

But Blaine just responds with a nod or a “hey” and turns back to his work.

Rachel orders pizza for everyone. They stand in a circle around the kitchen island, Kurt wedging himself in between Blaine and Sam in hopes of forcingBlaine to say something to him. Blaine does say one thing – “Could you pass the red pepper flakes, Kurt?” – but beyond that there’s as little communication as always, unless you count the way the sides of their legs hold contact throughout the entire meal while both of them pretend nothing is out of the ordinary.

By the time Kurt is in the passenger seat of Mason’s van to navigate their way to Rachel’s new place, Kurt feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin.

“You look a little tense,” Mason says.

“I’m always tense,” Kurt says.

“I could help with that,” Mason says.

“We’re supposed to be at Rachel’s new place in 20 minutes.”

“We could get lost on the way. Or stop for donuts. Pizza’s not very filling, and I’m a growing boy.”

Kurt gets out his phone and shoots a quick text to Rachel.

 **_Kurt:_ ** _Mason and I decided we need a little break from all the moving. We’re going to get coffee. See you around 2:30?”_

 **_Rachel:_ ** _Good idea! That gives me enough time to christen the new place with Sam :)_

 **_Kurt:_ ** _Oh god. Make it 3. I don’t want to walk in on that._

* * *

It’s stupid how far Kurt is letting this go. Inviting Mason into his bedroom, for one. Stripping down to nothing, for two.

Letting Mason suck his cock like it’s the world’s fastest-melting popsicle – that’s probably the stupidest thing of all.

But Kurt can’t help it. It’s so good to look down the mattress and see a head of tightly-controlled curls bob eagerly back and forth on his dick. Just like old times.

The memories uncurl something deep in Kurt’s belly. The tightness in his thighs relaxes. His legs fall open against the mattress. Mason’s hands wander from where they’ve been cupped around Kurt’s balls. One goes to the inside of Kurt’s thigh, coaxing it into a more open position. The other traces experimental trails down Kurt’s perineum.

 _Goddammit_ , Kurt thinks. _This bastard knows exactly what I want._

It’s impossible to let the annoyance get the best of him, though – not when each touch feels like a spark of hope, like the first chance Kurt’s had at healing since coming back to Lima.

“I want you to fuck me,” Kurt says. The words sound like they’re coming out of a stranger’s mouth.

Mason pulls off Kurt’s cock. His lips look pinker than usual, flush from blood flow and shiny from spit. It’s reminiscent of Blaine, but also not. And it’s incredibly hot, especially when Mason breaks into a slanting smile. “I was hoping you'd say that,” he says. “You’ll have to show me how you like it.”

Kurt almost asks whether that’s because every person’s likes and dislikes are different, or because Mason’s never done this before. But he doesn’t really want to know. Mason wants to do this, and it’s not Kurt’s place to judge whether or not the situation is ideal. Besides, Kurt just wants to forget about missing Blaine, and to remember what it felt like to have Blaine inside him.

“I’m still in love with Blaine,” Kurt says, because that much he can say.

“That’s obvious.” Mason grins and plants a kiss on the underside of Kurt’s cock. “I saw how you two were looking and not looking at each other all morning. And the way you guys were flirting during lunch. That’s why I figured you could let off a little steam.”

“We weren’t flirting. We didn’t even talk.”

“It was all in the body language.” Mason raises himself up on all fours and crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over Kurt, lips close enough to kiss. “Now how do you want it? Show me the way you like Blaine to fuck you.”

* * *

Okay, Mason must have done this before because it’s good. Really good. He knows how far to sink in before pausing. Kurt’s body goes tight the way it always does in those first few moments of fucking. He shuts his lids so tight that his eyeballs ache, curls his fingers firmly into Mason’s arms. “Just like that,” Kurt says with a strained voice. “Hold it right there, wait until –”

Kurt’s asshole clenches so hard it sends his back arching off the bed.

“Kurt, that’s – geez, that feels good.”

“Yeah.” Kurt nods, his head pushing vigorously back into the pillow.

Another spasm, another shock of electricity.

And then suddenly everything goes lax, all the muscles in Kurt’s body unwinding. “Now.” Kurt still doesn’t open his eyes.

Mason slides in the rest of the way: slowly, torturously, dragging out the moments before Kurt is completely filled. It’s a seduction, a gentle pulling of Kurt away from his worries and back into his own body. “God, please,” Kurt murmurs.

Mason grunts when he bottoms out. “Dang. You feel incredible.”

Kurt spasms around Mason’s cock. “Yeah. I do.”

Mason laughs. Kurt opens his eyes. That sweet, soft, caring look – it’s not exactly how Blaine used to look at Kurt. It lacks the desperation and the soul-solid certainty that would overtake Blaine’s eyes at these moments, the soft, wondered worshipfulness.

But it’s familiar enough. “Fuck me,” Kurt says.

Masons starts moving – slow at first, a restrained churning – and Kurt’s body adapts to it, starts moving, too, seeking more friction, more contact between Mason’s body and his own.

Mason tilts his hips, sending a sharp spark of pleasure through Kurt’s center that he’s only ever known with Blaine. Kurt bites down on Mason’s hand to keep from wailing out Blaine’s name.

“C’mon.” Mason fucks into Kurt again at the same angle. “Make noise. It’s hot.”

Kurt sucks on Mason’s finger and shakes his head.

Mason does the same thing a third time. The inside of Kurt’s belly feels like it’s just melted into a pool of butter. Kurt lets go of Mason’s finger. “Fuck me like that again.”

“Only if you promise to let it out.” Mason ducks his head down and drags the edge of his teeth against Kurt’s clavicle. “You can even say his name if you want to. You’re so hot when you look at him.”

Kurt nods. “Yeah. Anything. Just – _oh.”_ Only the _oh_ is less like an _oh_ and more like the sound of a tornado blowing through a gully.

Mason makes his own unintelligible noise in return, fucks into Kurt a little faster, and then faster, each stroke a shock of light on the inside of Kurt’s belly, everything so brilliant and joyful, the sun streaming through the window brighter than it’s been in months.

“Fuck, yes, fuck me,” Kurt murmurs, pulling Mason’s face down to his and engulfing his mouth in a hungry kiss. Mason reaches between them and starts stroking Kurt’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“Say his name,” Mason whispers against Kurt’s lips. “I want to hear what you sound like when he fucks you.” Mason lowers his mouth to the sensitive spot where jaw meets neck and sucks hard.

“Jesus,” Kurt moans. “I –” Heat spins through Kurt’s balls and up his spine. Kurt closes his eyes and lets himself feel all of it – the pleasure overtaking each cell of his body in a way he hasn’t felt since –

“Blaine!” Come streams hotly on Kurt’s belly – one pulse and then another, and another, as Mason keeps plunging into him. “Don’t stop, I’m still –” Kurt’s ass spasms around Mason’s thrusting cock, squeezes out the hardest orgasm Kurt has had in months. Kurt’s dizzy with it, lightheaded and joyful in a way that last week’s drunkenness couldn’t hope to accomplish. Kurt can hardly see past the pleasure as he comes and keeps coming, more semen dripping onto his stomach, his ass refusing to let Mason go.

“Kurt, I have to, oh gosh –” Mason drives into Kurt and comes with a loud, low groan.

* * *

They accidentally fall asleep for a few minutes. The sound of Kurt’s phone wakes them.

 **_Rachel:_ ** _We’re done with the christening! Come over any time!_

Kurt rubs his eyes. “I guess we need to head to Rachel’s.”

“Don’t look so sullen about it,” Mason says cheerfully. “It’s fun to help people.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re doing with me? Helping people?”

“My parents always taught me, it’s important to help out a brother in need.”

“‘Bros helping bros’? That’s what Blaine used to call it the first time we were broken up and would end up having sex.”

Mason reaches out and rubs Kurt’s shoulder. “I’d say it’s too bad you guys haven’t been doing it through this break up, but I kind of like the side benefits I get out of the whole situation.”

Kurt watches Mason’s face, tries to discern signs of jealousy or betrayal. He can’t find any, but maybe he doesn’t know Mason well enough. “What we’re doing – it’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it?”

“Maybe from the outside looking in. But it doesn’t feel messed up to me.” Mason shrugs. “I mean, maybe it’s weird that I could technically be considered your student, but – I’ve mostly been the one who’s doing the pushing.”

“Only as hard as I need,” Kurt says with a wink.

Mason giggles and bops Kurt with a pillow. He's absolutely adorable, the way his bare shoulders shake with his laughter. Kurt feels honored to get to see him this way. He can only imagine how much more intense this moment would be for someone who was in love with Mason. “You've never told me –" Kurt says. "Who are you in love with?”

Mason ducks his face into the mattress. “All I’m gonna say is that it’s not you _or_ my sister. Other than that – well, I’m not sure I should tell you. They should be the first one to know, don’t you think?”

Kurt nods. “That’s very reasonable.”

They get out of bed then, take turns cleaning up before they put on their clothes. When they walk out to the car, Mason’s body language goes back to the way it is at school – friendly but distant. No one would ever know there’s anything more than a normal teacher-student relationship going on between them.

Which is why it catches Kurt by surprise when they’re already on the road to Rachel’s and Mason asks, “Does Blaine know you’re in love with him?”

Kurt shrugs. “He must.”

“But have you told him?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Not since before we broke up.”

“Maybe you should tell him,” Mason says.

“Maybe. And maybe you should tell _your_ mystery beloved.”

Mason rubs his chin in thought. “I’m kind of scared to.”

“You? The guy who seduced his glee coach?”

“Yeah, but that’s – it’s not _just_ sex, because there’s friendship in there, too, but –” Mason glances over at Kurt. “Is that okay if I think of you as a friend? I know we have a sort of professional relationship, too, but –”

“It’s fine.” Kurt reaches over and gives Mason’s knee a squeeze. “Good, even.”

“Good.” Mason’s smile is bright. “Anyway, I know how to do sex and I know how to do friendship, but being in love with someone – that’s kind of a whole ‘nother ball of wax, isn’t it?”

Kurt nods.  “It’s terrifying.”

“Yeah. So that’s why I’m scared to say anything.”

Kurt looks out the window. “I guess that’s why I’m scared to say anything, too.”

* * *

They hook up two more times: once in Rachel’s apartment when she’s sleeping over at Sam’s; and once in the office next to the choir room, with Mason bent over the desk and taking it like a pro.

“I think,” says Mason as he pulls his pants back up and sinks into one of the conference chairs next to the office door, “we should probably stop doing this.”

“Kind of dumb for us to be fucking in the school, huh?” Kurt says, even though the fear of getting caught was half the thrill – and incredibly unlikely, given that it’s past 6 p.m. and the school is nearly empty, and that he and Mason blocked the choir room doors off with the grand piano and a pile of chairs so no one could get in even if they had keys.

Mason opens the door and points to the piano. “Getting caught is kind of unlikely.”

Kurt leans back against the desk and crosses his arms with a smirk. “I’ve heard of people breaking in through the windows for senior prank night.”

“That doesn’t happen until spring.”

Kurt nudges Mason’s toe with his own. “So what is it, then? Not that you aren’t free to call it off anytime. I’m just curious.”

Mason stares at his lap for so long that Kurt starts to get nervous. Kurt sinks to his knees so he can look into Mason's eyes. “Oh, god. I pressured you, didn’t I? This whole thing, I’ve used my position of authority and –”

Mason bursts out laughing. “Um, no. It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said that day we were helping Rachel move. About how maybe I should tell the person I like – that I should tell them how I feel.”

“‘Like’?” Kurt says. “Last time you mentioned them, you used the word ‘love.’”

Mason plays nervously with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah. I decided maybe if I used ‘like,’ I’d get less nervous about it. It might make it easier to ask her out on a date if I didn’t feel like the whole world was hanging in the balance.”

 _Her._ Kurt has the urge to ask if it’s Jane, but he doesn’t want to push. Besides, he's pretty sure he already knows.

“Anyway,” Mason says, “I don’t want to start using you as a crutch, you know? I like being with you, but – I know your heart’s with Blaine, and I think my heart’s with, well, this other person, and – maybe if we keep doing each other we’ll let that distract us from going after what we really want. Not that I don’t _want_ you, I totally do, _obviously –”_ Mason gestures to the wad of Kleenex they used to wipe his semen off the desk. “But, well –”

“You don’t have to explain. I know what you mean.”

Mason gives Kurt a soft smile – the same kind of smile Blaine gives when he feels like Kurt has just caught on to something essential about him. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Kurt’s not sure what else to say, or even if there is anything to be said. They’ve come to the end of a road together. Maybe all they can do is wish each other luck on the next leg of the journey. So he pulls up a conference chair next to Mason and sits with him in comfortable silence.

“Can I hold your hand one last time?” Mason says after a few minutes.

Kurt reaches over and takes Mason’s hand in his. It’s warm and solid, but it’s not as anchoring as Blaine’s. “Funny,” says Kurt. “I don’t think we’ve ever held hands before.”

“That _is_ kind of funny.” Mason smiles and leans his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “This okay, coach?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, turning to nuzzle into the hair that’s not enough like Blaine’s. “It’s good.”

Mason’s silent again for a few breaths, and then, “Promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll tell him you still love him? Because ... if you’re brave enough to do it, maybe I can, too.”

Kurt squeezes Mason’s hand. “I promise.”


End file.
